Not Bored Anymore
by Dreamin
Summary: Sherlolly AU: High school senior Sherlock is rescued by a tow truck driver and his cute daughter.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: All of my teen!lock stories have a mix of British and American terms, so please bear with me. I like having the gang in high school but I can't get away from British terms for other things.

* * *

"The richest bloke in school and you drive a used hearse," John Watson muttered, shaking his head at his best friend's eccentricities.

"Would you prefer I drive a new hearse?" Sherlock Holmes muttered back.

"At least with a new one, you wouldn't have to guess all the time how much petrol is left in the tank."

The two teenage boys were leaning against the hearse at the side of the lonely country road, waiting for the tow truck. Sherlock had forgotten to make a mental note of the last time he'd filled up the hearse's tank, the petrol gauge having broken the previous winter. Now it was the end of summer and he still hadn't gotten it fixed. If asked, he would say he was saving his money to buy a Belstaff.

Sherlock was the only boy in their high school who drove a used hearse. Consequentially, he was the also the only boy in their high school who had a towing company on speed-dial. He relaxed when the familiar yellow tow truck crested the nearby hill and started downwards towards them.

"There's Mr. Hooper," he said.

John looked up. "Who's that with him?"

Sherlock looked at the person in the front passenger seat as the tow truck came closer. _Short, whoever it is,_ he thought, but decided not to say that within earshot of his "average height, thankyouverymuch" best friend. He could barely see more than the top of the person's head, all he could make out was brown hair.

The tow truck pulled over to the side of the road and stopped in front of the hearse. Mr. Hooper and his passenger got out. The towing company owner was a middle-aged chain-smoker with unlimited patience. There was always a hint of sadness in the man's eyes that Sherlock had speculated about. When he got a good look at the man walking over to him and the girl hurrying to join him, he realized why the sadness was gone.

"Hello, boys," Mr. Hooper said, smiling broadly. "You had a good stretch, Sherlock. It's been what, three weeks since you last called?"

"Four," Sherlock muttered, annoyed that his cheeks were turning pink.

"Ah, yes," Mr. Hooper said. The girl beside him cleared her throat and Mr. Hooper chuckled. "Where are my manners? Molly, this is Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. Sherlock's one of my best customers. Boys, this is my daughter, Molly."

"I didn't know you had a daughter," John said.

In that short amount of time, Sherlock had already assessed the girl. _Five-foot-three. Short, like I thought, but I think the word is "petite" when you're talking about girls. Long brown hair. Ponytail – practical, wants to keep it out of her face but doesn't want to cut it. Brown eyes, larger than average. Faded jeans fraying at the edges. Old but not stained. Baggy Hello Kitty t-shirt. Also old, what looks to be an old chocolate ice cream stain on the collar. Doesn't care much about clothes. Wearing a ring on a chain under the shirt. Since she's now with her father, the ring must be her mother's and most likely the woman has recently died. Grieving but not hiding herself away, good for her. Looks twelve but that probably means she's fourteen._

"I used to only see her on the weekends but now she's come to live with me," Mr. Hooper said. "She'll be going to school with you two next week. I was hoping you could show her around, help her get used to the place."

"Sure, Mr. Hooper," John said, smiling. "You've certainly helped us out plenty of times." He nudged Sherlock in the side.

"Er, yes, happy to help," Sherlock muttered. _The last thing I need to do is babysit a freshman. Don't they know there's an orientation the day before the first day of school just for freshmen?_

"Good! Now, I've got two gallons with me, that'll get you to the next station. Let me make sure that's all you need."

While Mr. Hooper put petrol in the tank and checked under the bonnet, Molly looked at Sherlock. "Are you going to be a mortician?"

Sherlock was used to that sort of question. He smiled a bit. "No, I just wanted a car that would annoy my family and was within my birthday money budget."

John grinned. "Mrs. Holmes swore she'll never get in the hearse with him and she's forbidden him from taking it when he's running errands for her."

"God forbid her friends see me in it," Sherlock added, smirking. Molly giggled and Sherlock found himself liking the sound. _But I'm not about to date a freshman. Not that I'd date anyone in my class – the disaster that was Irene Adler was enough for a lifetime._

"At least you'll never lose it in a parking lot," she said, grinning. "I want to be a pathologist, maybe I should get one."

"Maybe," Sherlock said noncommittally.

Mr. Hooper put down the hood. "She's good to go, Sherlock."

"Thank you, sir," he said. "How much do I owe you?"

The older man smiled. "Drive Molly to and from school the first day and we're even. She'll take the bus after that."

"Um, sure," Sherlock said, surprised at his request.

"Good. I'll give Molly your number and let the two of you arrange a time." There was a chirping sound coming from the pocket of his trousers. He pulled out his mobile and read the text. "Time to go, Molly – another stranded driver needs us."

"Okay, Dad," she said, then she turned to the boys, smiling shyly. "Bye, John. Bye, Sherlock. I'll call you the night before school starts, okay?"

"I prefer to text," Sherlock said.

"Okay, I'll text you." She got into the truck and waved as it drove away.

John waved back then turned to his friend, scowling. "You could've been nicer."

"We're seniors, John. The last thing I need is a freshman girl following me everywhere all year."

John rolled his eyes as they got in the car. "Yes, having a female friend would go against your 'above-it-all loner' persona. You know how many girls at school fancy you, right?"

"Thirty-seven, as of the last day of school," Sherlock said. "That number may have changed over the summer, I'll find out when we get back."

"You know that question was rhetorical, right?"

* * *

Sherlock spent the last night of his summer holiday holed up in his bedroom, deliberately **not** wondering why Molly Hooper hadn't texted him yet. He'd made the mistake of mentioning her to his parents and siblings at dinner. All of them had questions, none of which Sherlock was willing to answer. Mycroft, who still had Sunday dinner with the family whenever his government job allowed, and Eurus teamed up to tease him about Molly, his single status, and the number of girls who fancied him (thirty-nine after a quick Facebook search).

 _Mycroft will be back at Whitehall tomorrow_ , Sherlock thought, _but I'll see Eurus at school._ His younger sister had ridden with him while she was in her goth phase, liking the idea of riding around in a hearse, but her current steampunk phase required that she take an honest-to-God penny-farthing to school when the weather allowed. When it didn't, which was more often than not, she decided she would take the bus. Sherlock was mid-eyeroll when his mobile chirped. He picked it up.

 _8:10p Hi, Sherlock. What time did you want to pick me up tomorrow? Molly_

 _I normally delete texts that start with "hi," but this time I'll make an exception._

 _8:11p School starts at 9, I'll pick you up at 8. SH_

 _8:13p Okay, I'll be ready. Molly_

* * *

The next morning, Sherlock pulled up to the address Molly had given him. It was an apartment building in a nice neighborhood a few blocks from his townhouse. He pulled up to the curb then texted Molly.

 _8:00a I'm outside. SH_

 _8:02a Be right down! Molly_

 _God, this school year is going to be so boring,_ he thought. _Thank God it's my last one. Gap year then uni beckon._

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to see Molly walking towards the car. She wore a black long-sleeved top, a black and beige plaid knee-length skirt, burgundy suede ankle boots, a burgundy scarf around her neck, and her hair was in some kind of fancy bun. She also wore light make-up and all-in-all looked a lot closer to eighteen. Sherlock couldn't stop staring at her as she opened the door and got into the front passenger seat.

"Hi, Sherlock." She saw his stare and frowned worriedly. "Am I overdressed? I wanted to look nice for my first day of my senior year."

 _Senior?!_ "I … I thought you were a freshman."

She rolled her eyes, smiling a bit. "Everyone thinks I'm about twelve when they first meet me since I'm so short. I'll be eighteen in March."

"You're not short, you're cute," Sherlock blurted, and immediately blushed. "Um, I meant to say 'petite.'"

Molly grinned at him happily and Sherlock knew his senior year was going to be anything but boring.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Yeah, I thought this story was done but my muse had other ideas. One more chapter after this.

* * *

As soon as they walked into the commons, Sherlock felt like all eyes were on them. He was determined not to blush. Some of the girls were giving Molly the evil eye and she seemed to shrink into herself, her earlier confidence gone.

 _That just won't do,_ he thought. He draped an arm across her shoulders and leaned to murmur, "Ignore them, they're just jealous."

"That's not easy for me," Molly said quietly.

"Really? I do it all the time." He surreptitiously looked around the commons again. "Right now, I'm ignoring my ex-girlfriend, who's desperately trying to catch my eye." When Molly tried to look around to see who his ex was, Sherlock instead showed Molly to her locker, thanking whoever was listening that it was right next to his. When she got the combination lock open on the first try, he grinned at her. "Truly, the locker gods favor you."

She giggled, finally relaxing. "I didn't even have to sacrifice my first pencil."

Sherlock laughed softly. "What's your first class?"

Molly took her printed schedule out of her purse. "English with Mrs. Hudson."

"Me too. You'll like her, she was my English teacher last year too."

"Hi, Sherlock," John said as he came over to them. "Who's-" He cut himself off when Molly turned to him. John stared at her. "Molly?"

She giggled. "Hi, John."

"You look … older."

"You'll have to forgive John," Mary Morstan, John's girlfriend of a year, said as she came over and took his offered hand. She grinned at her boyfriend. "He tends to put his foot in his mouth around girls."

Sherlock chuckled at his best friend's blush. "Molly, this is John's girlfriend Mary Morstan. Mary, John, Molly Hooper is the newest member of the senior class."

"Good!" Mary said, beaming. "For some bizarre reason, our class is overwhelmingly male, it's good to have another girl around."

"I thought you said you liked being one of the few girls," John said.

"Yes, something about 'all the eye candy,'" Sherlock added.

Mary grinned at them. "It'll be nice to have another girl around to talk about you lot with."

Molly giggled. "This is going to be fun."

* * *

In English class, Sherlock found himself seated right in front of Molly. He wanted to kiss Mrs. Hudson on the cheek for seating everyone alphabetically. Feeling more like a silly sixth grader than a high school senior, Sherlock wrote a quick note while Mrs. Hudson was handing out textbooks, folded it, then reached behind him. He felt a little tingle when Molly's fingers brushed his as she took the folded note. Keeping his eyes on the teacher, he had to imagine her reaction to his note.

 _Have lunch with me? John and Mary will be there too. You can keep me from being the third wheel._

He felt the edge of the refolded paper nudge him in the side a minute later. Sherlock waited until Mrs. Hudson had her back to him before unfolding it.

 _It's a date._

Sherlock knew his resulting blush and stupid grin could be seen by the entire class but he absolutely did not care.

 _I have a date._

* * *

Sherlock's last class before lunch ended early, so he was waiting for Molly when her class let out. She grinned at him.

"Hi, Sherlock. So, where are we sitting?" She started towards the cafeteria then Sherlock lightly grabbed her elbow.

"Haven't you heard?" he asked, grinning. "Seniors can leave campus for lunch."

"Oh! Where are we going?"

"Just the fast food place across the street."

When the four of them were seated in the booth with their burgers and fries, the boys started eating quietly while the girls talked as they ate.

"I overheard two boys in the hallway say something about 'the cute new girl,'" Molly said, blushing a bit. "It took me a minute to realize they were talking about me."

"That was Mike Stamford and Henry Knight," Mary said, smiling a bit. "They both had summer flings that went nowhere."

"Those two boys over there, they're seniors, right?" Molly asked as she pointed to the pair at a table on the other side of the restaurant with one of her fries. "The black-haired one is in my calculus class."

"Jim Moriarty and Seb Moran," Sherlock said while he attacked his fries. "Moriarty's the one in your calculus class, he's the brain. Moran's the brawn, he's on the track team." He couldn't help feeling on-edge whenever someone brought up Moriarty.

"Moriarty?" John asked. "Is that the guy Irene- ow!" He was interrupted by an elbow to his ribs. "You didn't have to hit me so hard, Mary," he muttered.

"I had to shut you up somehow," Mary said, her eyes twinkling, "and you know I don't like kissing you when you're eating onions."

"Who's Irene?" Molly asked.

"Irene Adler, Sherlock's ex-girlfriend," Mary said. "Gorgeous, self-centered, totally wrong for Sherlock."

"The guy Irene what?" Molly asked Sherlock, keeping her voice down. "The guy Irene … cheated on you with?"

"Change of subject," Sherlock declared. "Now."

Mary smiled a bit, her eyes on the other table. "I see Seb's still got it bad for Jim. When's he going to realize that Jim only really has eyes for himself?"

"It's hard dating a narcissist," John said, smirking. "You'll have your work cut out for you, Molly."

"I am not a narcissist," Sherlock said firmly.

John's smirk grew. "Who said I was talking about you, mate?"

* * *

Sherlock was walking down the hallway to his next-to-last class that afternoon when he saw something that made him stop dead in his tracks – the girl he could admit to himself that he fancied talking to his younger sister. _Oh, bloody hell…_

Molly and Eurus were standing by the drinking fountain, giggling. Eurus' knee-length black-and-white Victorian-inspired dress, black tights, and dark brown knee-length boots were a bit much for school in Sherlock's opinion, but definitely more sedate than her usual steampunk outfits. _At least she left the goggles at home._

He tugged playfully at one of his sister's braids when he got close enough. Eurus glared at him.

"You didn't tell me she's your girlfriend."

Sherlock felt his cheeks flush. "I … er … that's because she's not," he said weakly.

"Well, why not?" Eurus demanded. "You fancy her, she fancies you, she said you had lunch together. Sounds like dating to me."

Sherlock noticed Molly was blushing now too. He raised an eyebrow. "Molly and I will talk about it later, without my baby sister listening in."

"I'm not a baby," Eurus insisted, stamping her foot.

One of the boys nearby snickered.

 _Great,_ Sherlock thought, _everyone's enjoying this._ "Yes, you are. C'mon, Molly, I'll take you to class."

"Actually, it's right here," Molly said, nodding to the nearby classroom door. "But I'll see you after. You're taking me home, right?"

"Of course," he said, smiling.

Eurus smirked. "Yep, definitely your girlfriend."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: A big thank you to my readers for insisting that this story wasn't done. I hope you like how it turned out.

* * *

When school was finally done for the day, Sherlock went back to the classroom where he'd left Molly but she was already gone. He double-backed and found her at her locker.

Unfortunately, Moriarty had found her first. As Sherlock approached them, he could hear they were discussing calculus. Jim had the charm turned up to eleven and Molly kept giggling.

Sherlock felt his heart sink into the basement. _I thought her giggles were just for me._

"I'm an expert on infinitesimals," Jim was saying when Sherlock came up to them.

"Yes, he's really familiar with things that are just too small to measure," Sherlock drawled.

Molly giggled again while Jim shot him a death glare. Sherlock ignored him.

"Ready to go, Molly?" he asked, smiling.

"Molly," Jim said, charming again, "I was wondering if you'd like to see a movie?"

"I really shouldn't," she said, smiling at him gently. "It's a school night. But I know someone who'd love to go to the movies with you."

Jim raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Sebastian." She nodded at where Moran was stuffing textbooks into his messenger bag a few feet away.

To Sherlock, it looked like the track star was deliberately ignoring them.

Jim turned to look then turned back to Molly, his eyes wide. "Sebastian? He's not … he doesn't … we're just friends."

Molly smiled sympathetically. "Was that your decision or his?"

"He had a crush on me when we were sophomores, but it went away."

"Nope," Sebastian said from behind Jim. He added when Jim turned around, "I just stopped mentioning it." His cheeks reddened. "I'd … like to go to the movies with you, Jim."

Sherlock said, a little confused, "Are you into boys too, Moriarty? I thought it was just other people's girlfriends."

"Jim's into anyone who's into him," the all-too-familiar voice of his ex-girlfriend said as she came over. Irene was dressed, as always, like she just walked off a _Vogue_ cover shoot.

Sherlock realized his preferences had changed a lot since he'd met Irene, to the point where he now definitely preferred adorable-girl-next-door Molly.

Jim ignored Irene. "I'm always open to all possibilities," he told Sherlock. Jim turned back to Sebastian. "You're the only person who gets me, I don't want to ruin that."

"We won't let it," Sebastian promised. He held out his hand.

After a moment's hesitation, Jim took it. As they started to walk to the front doors, Sebastian turned and flashed a grateful grin at Molly. She grinned back.

"Well, that's my good deed for the day," Molly said happily.

Irene smirked at her. "So, you're Sherlock's little friend."

"Irene," Sherlock said, a clear warning in his tone.

"Down, boy," she said, grinning. "I was just going to invite her to the Sherlock's Exes club. Of course, there's only me right now, but I'm sure Molly will be eligible soon enough."

The anger Sherlock felt at Irene's words was magnified when he saw how uncomfortable Molly looked. "That's enough, Irene. If I'm lucky enough to be Molly's boyfriend, there's no way I'd be stupid enough to lose her."

"You lost me," Irene pointed out. "What does that make you?"

"A bloody genius," Sherlock muttered. He turned to Molly, saying gently, "Are you ready to go, Molly?"

She nodded, clutching her bookbag and purse. Sherlock gently took the bookbag from her and put it on his free shoulder then wrapped a protective arm around her shoulders as they walked away.

Molly was quiet the entire walk to the hearse and that worried Sherlock. As soon as both of them were in the car, he turned to her.

"Molly, I-"

"Did you mean it?" she asked quietly, her eyes even bigger than usual.

"Mean what?" he asked carefully.

"That you'd be lucky to have me, and you'd have to be stupid to lose me."

He smiled softly. "Every word."

She smiled back at him shyly. "Was there something you wanted to ask me?"

"Molly … could I be your boyfriend?"

She grinned at him happily. "I'd like that very much."

Sherlock grinned back at her then reached across to take her hand and softly kiss her knuckles, reveling in her happy blush.

* * *

They were just down the street from her building when Molly said suddenly, "Oh God, turn around…"

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, immediately concerned but he did as she asked.

"My ex is sitting on the steps."

"It's been a day for exes," Sherlock muttered. "Text your dad, tell him your ex is there and I'm taking you to my house."

"Your house?" she echoed, surprised. "I don't think my dad will like that."

"Your dad knows me and my family, it'll be fine." He smiled a bit. "It's not like I'm going to have you in my room with the door closed."

Molly blushed prettily. "What about your parents?" she asked as she sent a text to her father.

Sherlock smiled a bit. "I was going to introduce you to them at some point anyway. No time like the present."

Introducing Molly to his parents as "my girlfriend" was easier than Sherlock thought. Predictably, his mother gushed over Molly and his father just looked proud. Eurus was the smuggest he'd ever seen her.

Mrs. Holmes insisted on everyone having tea in the solarium. It was a lovely day outside, made even lovelier when Molly let him hold her hand as they sipped their tea. Eventually, his parents left the room. Eurus stayed, claiming she was the chaperone.

Sherlock ignored her. "Molly, I … um … was going to ask you if I could still drive you to and from school."

Molly grinned at him, amused. "Of course, Sherlock. I was going to ask if you hadn't said anything by the time you dropped me off."

He grinned back. "Good." His grin faded. "Did you and your ex have a bad break-up?"

Molly sighed quietly as she stared down at her tea. "Tom's a jerk. He was so possessive and jealous, and really rather dense. When my mum died, he wasn't supportive at all. He just told me to grow up. That's when I dumped him."

"I'll never be like that," Sherlock promised softly.

She looked up at him and smiled softly. "I know, Sherlock, otherwise I wouldn't be here."

Sherlock grinned at her from ear to ear.

"Six years, two months, and five days," Eurus said as she typed into her mobile.

Both of them turned to her, confused. "Until what?" Sherlock asked cautiously.

Eurus grinned. "It's the length of time I'm picking for my just-created wedding pool."

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, desperately hiding the fact that inside, he was doing cartwheels. "You think Molly and I will be married then?"

"Absolutely!" Her phone chirped and she read the incoming text. "John is guessing five years and a week." Another incoming text. "Mary says four years flat."

Sherlock was almost scared to see Molly's reaction, but his burning curiosity won out. He turned to see her smiling at him knowingly.

"Seven years from last Wednesday," she said.

"The day we met," Sherlock explained to a confused Eurus.

"What about you, Sherlock?" Eurus asked, grinning.

"Oh, I think Molly is spot on," he said, smirking.

And so it was.


End file.
